


This Ghostly Little Book

by misfiredmiscreant



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, F/F, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 07:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4995505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misfiredmiscreant/pseuds/misfiredmiscreant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil. Say that her power lies in words and looks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count them up: what then? The happiness she gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune."</p><p>When the holiday season rolls around, Root and Gen find themselves drawn together, realizing that even though their shared link is missing, they have more in common than either would have thought.  </p><p>Written for the Ladies Of Interest Challenge for Genrika Zhirova! Prompt: Home</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Ghostly Little Book

“Mr. Reese, I’m afraid our next errand won’t be up to your usual standards of excitement.” Harold’s voice rang through the subway station as John walked carefully down the stairs. Bear ran over to him as he bent down to ruffle the fur behind his ears.

“Harold, surely you don’t expect me to go Christmas shopping, do you?” Harold could hear the smirk behind John’s words as he checked the calendar on his desktop; he was sure Root was somehow responsible for the dancing evergreen that held a countdown until the 25th.

“No, that won’t be necessary, though you will be picking something-“ Harold rose from the desk as he grabbed the picture laid out next to his computer “-or should I say someone, up.” Dangling the photo in front of John, who was now crouched down next to Bear, he saw recognition flash across them. “You remember Miss Zhirova, don’t you?”

John did, not that the two had ever really properly met. “Is she in danger again?” He asked cautiously, rising to take the photo from Harold’s hands.

“No, she’s not, but, seeing as she’s now the ward of Harold Plover, Miss Zhirova is in need of a home for the holidays while her school is closed, and we are to provide it for her.”

“Can’t you send Root?” John asked, but as he stared speaking he knew the answer to his question. Root was gone, away somewhere as she always was, flitting about on side missions or tracking down-

“Send me where boys?” Both men turned as they saw Root saunter down the stairs to the subway. Bear left John’s side, running towards the new face and the bag she held at her side.

“Miss Groves, I didn’t know you’d be back.”

“Neither did I, Harry.” She fished a treat out of the bag and handed it to Bear. “At least I’m not back empty-handed.” She turned, focusing on John. “Did you want one too?”

John cracked a sarcastic smile. After their trip upstate, the two had come to a sort of truce, though Root did always seem ready to push the limits of it at the drop of a hat. “Maybe sending Root is a good idea Harold. After all, won’t it be suspicious for a detective to be picking up a young girl and taking her from her school?”

Root took the photo from Harold’s hands and studied it carefully. “This must be Gen.”

“How do you know Miss Zhirova?” Harold asked, though he knew the answer already. Root turned, her eyes taking on the same dreariness that hung over the subway station.

“Really, Harold, I think we know the answer to that question. Just because I was busy leaving a mental hospital at the time doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have heard about her eventually.” Root tilted her head, smiling, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “We did spend 10 hours together in a safe house.”

“Well,” John said, turning to grab Bear’s collar. “I think that settles it then. Let Root go.” He clipped Bear in and headed towards the stairs. “She’ll be fine.” He called over his shoulder as they left for the snowy, aboveground world.

Harold stared at Root, standoffish. “This is a delicate situation Miss Groves, I think it best we not tell Miss Zhirova-“

“What, Harold? We don’t tell her that Shaw is gone and that we don’t know where she is?”

“She’s ten years old!”

“She’ll figure it out, especially once she comes to the house. Sameen was the only one she knew- the only one she trusts, probably. She may have a house to come to, but it certainly won’t be a home for her.”

Harold paused. “At least she’ll be safe.” Root’s wide eyes returned to normal as they stood in silence for a beat. He made his way back over towards the computers, accompanied by the sounds of Root’s heels clicking on the floor.

The tree on his desktop spun and danced around, as white pixels fell like snowflakes around it. The countdown had a sign saying that there were three days until Christmas- Harold furtively glanced over his shoulder to see Root transfixed on the dancing plant.

“Proud of your work?” He smiled slightly as Root’s face became slightly more chagrined.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Harry.” She pushed away from the desk and headed towards the interior of the subway car.

“School officially ends in 45 minutes; I would suggest finding a mode of transportation other than your motorcycles you seem to be favoring lately.” Harold called out as he returned to the desk. Root seemed to once again use the subway as her personal changing room, though she brought a large duffel bag back out with her as she headed towards the stairs.

“Not to worry. It’s all under control.” She raised the bag in the air after she noticed Harold’s eyes stray to it. “It’s not all guns,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Spare clothes. If we’re staying in the safe house, a girl’s got to be prepared.” She slung it over her shoulder and headed out. “See you later tonight. I’m sure Gen will want to meet Bear.”

With a few more fading footsteps, Root was gone, and Harold returned to his workstation. He warily eyed the Christmas tree as he returned to typing, realizing he had a lot of work to get done if he was going to make it through the next few days.

 

* * *

  

Root listened quietly over the static in her implant until the blurry numbers of a license plate came through. As she commandeered the vehicle and headed out of the city, she couldn’t help but focus on Harold’s words. Though she hated to admit it, he had a point: there was no easy way to tell Gen the news, if she hadn’t already found out somehow. Without Shaw there, would she even come with Root? How would she know to trust her? Ten years old meant she was young, but not stupid. Root had only been a little older herself when everything happened back in Bishop. She gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. It would do her no good to miss Hanna now, nor would it do her any good to dwell on Sameen either. She had spent the past weeks hunting down every lead she could find. Nothing seemed to make the Machine go quiet faster, and Root was counting on at least a little bit of help over the next few days.

“I’m a bit out of my element here, you know.” She spoke lowly as the road sped past her. “Isn’t there anything you can do to help?” The low hum of interference that had been the new constant stayed on pitch, and she huffed in frustration as she got closer and closer to the destination.

When Root finally pulled up, she spotted her waiting with a group of other girls, all dressed in the same uniform, surrounded by a group of ladies that had stiff postures and stern faces. Rolling her shoulders back, Root assumed a matching posture as she headed over towards them. Any challenge she was worried about faded as she noticed the young girl brighten in recognition and walk over towards her.

“Sam! Sam Groves!” She said excitedly.

Roots eyes narrowed slightly as she took in the redhead below her, who was bobbing back on forth on her heels. “Call me-“

“Root. I know. She said I should say your old name to you first.” Abruptly, she turned and headed back towards the curb. She must have sensed Root’s hesitation, as she turned over her shoulder. “Come on. Spies have to have codenames right?”

As Gen grabbed her bags, Roots hissed under her breath “Have you told her about me?” The Machine remained silent in return.

What Root wasn’t expecting was the silence that took over the car as they drove away. She had remembered Sameen pretending to complain about the talkative nature of the girl, and frankly, she expected more questions from a ten-year old. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the face looking out the window at the grey world that passed them by.

“Are you taking me back to the apartment?” Gen’s voice broke Root’s train of thought. “With Vadim?” Root could hear the slight tremor in her words.

“No.” She shook her head slowly, glancing as she shifted lanes. “No, we thought it might be best if you stayed with us for the holiday.” Gen smiled slightly at Root’s words.

“Is Bear going to be there?”

“Yup. Harold’s going to bring him over tonight.”

“And John?”

“He should be there too.”

“What about Lionel?”

“Lionel? I have no idea.”

“And Shaw won’t be there.” Gen watched Root stiffen at her words. The car slowed as they entered traffic, and Gen kept her head turned in towards the other woman, as the world seemed to fade outside. “You don’t have to lie. I know something happened.”

Root turned and looked Gen in the eye. “We’re going to get her back.” She swallowed, sighing. “How did you know?”

Gen fiddled with her fingers again, as Root realized she was holding something. “This.” She unfolded a piece of paper. “Shaw told me if I needed her, that I could call this number. But she hasn’t answered in a month.”

To say that Shaw really answered in the first place was a bit of stretch. The first time Gen had called, she had to shut her eyes as the sound of bullets rang out through the receiver.

_“Hey. Kid. Now’s not a good time.”_

_“Shaw, there was a letter. It’s Vadim. I’m worried, he doesn’t sound right.” There was a pause in the gunfire and Gen could hear Shaw’s breath, slightly heavier than normal. “Are you ok?”_

_“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Reese!” Another burst of fire. “Listen, did you get anything else?”_

_“No.”_

_“Ok, have you been doing anything that you could get in trouble for?” The pause from Gen was telling. “Keep your nose out of trouble. I’ll check in on Vaddy-boy and make sure he’s alright.”_

_Gen could hear muffled voices from Shaw’s end. “Shaw, be safe.”_

_“Yeah, okay. You too kid. Talk soon.”_

With a click, she was gone. Three days later, there was a letter in her mailbox, with several pictures of Vad, drugs, and one picture of a dog with a hand on its head. _Bear and I took care of it_ was scrawled on the back.

Anytime Gen called Shaw, it tended to follow the same way. Whether it was a group of girls who had stolen a few of Gen’s things (those turned up quickly) or a series of plaguing nightmares involving the police and a chair in an empty warehouse, Shaw had answered. A few days later, there was always a letter in mailbox, with a series of pictures- one of them always involving Bear.

Eventually the letters came without prompting. They were never long, but Gen glimpsed a view of Shaw’s life through the words on the page. Sometimes she’d see black smudges and traces on the edges of the paper- she suspected gunpowder, but would never risk lighting it to test. Shaw was never forthcoming with the details, but then again, a spy-in-training had to learn to piece the puzzle together without much help.

“I thought she was undercover and couldn’t answer, but then I never even got a letter or anything back and I knew something had to have gone wrong.”

“She wrote you letters?” Root couldn’t help the slightly amusement in her voice, nor she could quiet the inner flare of jealousy that sprang forth, no matter how much she told herself it was ridiculous.

“And sent pictures. You’re even in a couple of them!”

It was good that all parties were wearing seatbelts as Root braked with slightly more force than necessary. As they waited at a red light, Root took the time to look over at the girl. “Do you...have all of these letters and pictures?” She cursed inwardly at the shakiness in the voice, hoping Gen wouldn’t pick it up.

“Of course.” A wry smile came over Gen’s face. “You want to see them, don’t you?”

Root’s face darkened, and her lips pursed together as the light turned green, the car speeding through the intersection.

“I don’t mind sharing.” The smile faded from Gen’s face; she lapsed into silence as the car drove on. “No one at school believes any of my stories. They don’t even believe that any of you guys are real.”

The wipers beat out a steady rhythm over the quiet as snow started to fall, melting on the windshield, and eventually car rolled to a stop in front of the safe house. Root’s expression was stony as she got out and Gen followed her uneasily.

“Don’t worry.” Gen accepted her bag from Root’s hands. “You don’t have to worry about any of that here.”

With a somber nod, Gen followed Root into the safe house, as snowflakes fell determinedly around them.

**Author's Note:**

> The opening summary is a modified version of a quote- bonus points to whoever can guess it! Thanks for reading- feel free to follow me on thedawnoftomorrow.tumblr.com - I'm more than happy to take fic requests, answer questions, or just make friends!
> 
>  
> 
> This is written for the Ladies Of Interest Challenge for Genrika Zhirova! Prompt: Home


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